William Michaelian

Poems, Notes, and Drawings

My Father’s Shoes

I will never consider myself educated; the idea is laughable; and if the time ever comes that I honestly can, it will likely be too late to serve much purpose. As it is, I’m not even sure I know what I know, my life being the dream that it is. I confess a school boy’s understanding of the alphabet; and I’m fairly certain that if I go at it slowly enough and deliberately enough, I can still add columns of numbers. Everything else is a weird synthesis of immediate impressions and random memory, with a few books thrown in — a bird on a wire; a squirrel on a limb; Guy de Maupassant and Great Expectations; my father’s old leather work shoes, late at night, pondering their fate by the back door.

 
My Father’s Shoes

In the summer,
they were dusty outside
and damp inside,
warm, sour.

Late at night,
they whispered softly
about concerns
of their own.

Songs and Letters, January 31, 2007
Another Song I Know, Cosmopsis Books, 2007

My Father's Shoes


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Categories: Another Song I Know, Drawings, Songs and Letters

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